Soul Calibur: Intertwined Fates
by MugaiJohn
Summary: A traveling swordsman seeks mastery. A demon seeks companionship. As the world they know is shaped by dark luminous powers rising in the West, they struggle on their quests together.
1. The Oni Princess

Soul Calibur: Intertwined Fates

_Soul Calibur: Intertwined Fates_

Chapter 1: "The Oni Princess"

Sitting in the candlelight of an ancient _Shinto_ shrine in the _Kyoto_-prefecture, a young _samurai_ by the name of Tsuji Gettan Sukeshige paid homage to the Shinto spirits and his ancestors. The _kamidana_ before him intricately decorated for _Hachiman_, the Shinto god of war, Gettan offered _saké_ for the deity as well as prayers for enlightenment on the path of ken _zen ichi nyo_, "the sword and zen are one truth". Having received _Menkyo Kaiden_, or full-transmission from the _Yamaguchi-ryû_ school of _kenjutsu _at the age of twenty-six, Gettan felt his swordsmanship was lacking. Thus as salty sweat dripped from his tanned forehead to his bushy black eyebrows and, painfully, into his eyes, his reverence did not falter as his bowed deeply twice, clapped two times, and bowed once more, signaling an end to his prayers. He bowed humbly to the Shinto priests maintaining the shrine, picked up his _katana_, and descended down the steps of the shrine. The nature around him served as a reminder to his ascetic training, his _Musha Shugyō_, "Warrior's Pilgrimage", to improve his competence as a swordsman and on the Way of Strategy.

The gentle breeze rolling around him harkened to memories of a past life in the _Sengoku Jidai_, provoked by his Yamaguchi_-_ryû, where skill was all that separated a samurai from life and death. But his _sensei_, Yamaguchi Bokushinsai, often recounted of the legend of a sword wielded by Hachiman himself, which brought down the _Taira_ clan. Bokushinsai referred to this sword as the _Soul Sword_. Gettan reminded himself that such items were prized and coveted by the Emperor. Even in an era of relative peace, skill was always necessary, Gettan reckoned with himself.

Just as he reached the final step leading to the dirt path that connected to the steps of the shrine, a dagger-shaped _shuriken_ stabbed into the ground, right before his foot had assumed the now occupied space. Gettan looked up, his left hand grasping the _saya_, scabbard, of his sword in anticipation, amongst the trees branches before him, three black-cloaked _ninja_ were in hot pursuit of a fourth, bright-red clothed _kunoichi_. Gettan watched as the female ninja easily evaded the incoming shuriken with ease, sighing to himself, "The era of the samurai is truly at an end." He released his grip on his sword and began walking along the dirt path following the ninja.

* * *

Elsewhere, a youthful female _Oni_ by the name of Kamikirimusi, found herself traversing across yet another solemn dirt path, _alone_. Every city through which she had traversed, she had been assaulted, insulted, and ostracized by the humans. She had witnessed the joys of humanity, the love between a man and a woman, the love of family, and the companionship between humans. But she was never allowed to be involved. The humans attacked her for the two horns on her head and the claws on her fingers. She wished, no, she longed for that feeling, that bond.

To the West, Kamikirimusi could sense a growing power, sinister, like her, but inherently so, perhaps one day she could meet this demon, she thought. 'Till then, she would continue wandering; searching for someone she could form a bond with, much like the kind hearted _Onmyojin_ that sealed her away in the _Heian Jidai_.

With a loud depressing sigh, Kamikirimusi dropped the eight-foot _kanabō_, a long spiked iron club requiring an Oni's strength to wield, and dropped to her backside. The bandages wrapped around her thin calves were imprinted with pink paw prints, and had at one time been white, were now grimy with sweat, dust, and mildew. The short dark blue _kimono_ she wore tied with a pink bow in the front, had begun to shrink on her a few centuries prior, upset by a large shapely chest, the _sarashi_ she had once worn underneath practically ripped apart slowly during her imprisonment. Five things that hadn't changed were her red scarf, her fluorescent bright red hair, the rouge the outlined her bright yellow eyes, the prayer beads the Onmyōjin had sealed her away with, and the two horns misaligned to the left side of her head.

Exhausted or more aptly too apathetic to move any more for the time being, Kamikirimusi thought back to all the Oni she had played with before she was captured. Most were older than her, but they still enjoyed playing with her, unlike the humans, who reviled the mess with bitter distaste the Oni left. Humans just didn't understand that she was just having fun. Houses and buildings could be rebuilt, fun was rare indeed.

Kamikirimusi's ears twitched, as she heard movement from the treetops about a mile away. Grinning with a young glow, she grabbed her kanabō and hoisted her body up, looking into the brush above. In the distance, she saw three men in dark clothing chasing after a woman in bright red. Was it a game? Was there fun to soon be had? Kamikirimusi asked herself, the emptiness within her rescinded and a warm joy emerged. As the woman in red passed over her, Kamikirimusi spun around, the kanabō following in tow, slicing down the tree the three male ninja had planned to land on with brute destructive force.

"How would you all like it if I chased you around?" Kamikirimusi asked, a dark grin on her face, resting the over-sized weapon against her delicate frame, she looked down upon the ninja, ignorant to their occupational nature.

As if staring Death in the face, two of the ninja stood with weapons drawn, the third lay prostrate on the dirt, a pool of blood gushing from where his own shuriken had impaled him upon landing. The other two could barely hold their weapons still, staring at the _monster_ before them.

Suddenly, a graceful landing signaled a presence behind her, nonchalantly looking over her shoulder, the well endowed Japanese woman in the skin-tight red suit stood, iron pauldrons in the shape of demon faces clasped against her shoulders, two kodachi swords drawn and ready to be thrust into Kamikirimusi. The black haired Japanese woman looked at Kamikirimusi and said, "Vile demon, prepare to be cast back into the pit of Hell."

As the red woman flipped through the air, assaulting Kamikirimusi with kicks and short cutting strikes, the two frightened ninja attacked her with single-edged straight swords. Four blades coming at her, Kami was left with only enough time to parry two, choosing the strongest two, she bashed her kanabō across the red woman's blades, sweeping her to the ground, as two iron blades had sliced into the back of her kimono and scratched against her skin irritatingly. Swinging her spiked club around at them, the ninja had not been so lucky to avoid an eight-foot iron wall crushing into and through their insides. Now left was only the woman that Kamikirimusi had strived to protect, and now she was turning on her.

The woman lunged at Kamikirimusi, flipping into a spinning wheel kick, Kami sidestepped out of the way and lifted her kanabō quickly into the air; that alone would have deter most would be assailants, but not this one. Kami swung diagonally overhead with a one-handed grip, the woman quickly jumped back out of the way, leaving the tip pointed straight towards her abdomen. Switching hands suddenly, Kami swung around behind her horizontally, which the strange woman had unknowingly assisted by cross-stepping and parrying the club away from her, as the red woman got within striking range of her small daggers, Kami had thrown the haft of the club into her, knocking her some distance away.

"I don't want to fight you." Kamikirimusi reasoned with a hint of anger in her voice. She picked up her kanabō and stabbed the blunt tip into the ground and leaned against it.

"You're a demon, and I am a demon-slayer. Before you can cause harm to others, it is my duty to send you to Hell." The strange woman announced, brushing off the attack while spinning her blades into the saya on her back. "My name is Taki, former member of the _Fuma_ ninja clan." She concluded, standing erect, Taki raised her left hand around and over her head, bringing it straight down in front of her, with only her index and middle fingers pointed up. Kamikirimusi readied herself for a second round, but in a flash of purple smoke, the ninja woman disappeared.

"Ninja…" Even for being over six-hundred years old, Kamikirimusi had missed out on a huge part of Japanese history, specifically the part about samurai wearing no armor and leaping through trees. She looked up in between the tree branches to see the setting sun, the light danced across her yellow eyes and she was losing herself in the cadence of the forest.

Suddenly, her ears began to twitch again; something was coming in her direction. How long had she stood admiring the closing of day? Now the sun had retreated below the trees and only the barest hint of twilight was left in the day. But who was the coming upon her? Taki? More Ninja? Kamikirimusi lifted her kanabō intent on striking whoever it was, if not in self-defense, than to prevent the need for which. She stared straight down the path behind her, recounting that a Shinto shrine she had once spent the night in centuries ago was on a branching path that connected to the main road.

"Who's there?" She shouted, lowering her club a little.

After a few seconds, she received a reply, "No one of practical importance."

Kamikirimusi charged straight down the path towards a humble looking human, seemingly unkempt by normal standards. Then she noticed the two swords at his hip, stepping forward into an attack position with her left foot, Kami left the kanabō facing behind her. "Who are you?" She repeated.

The young man looked startled by her, but unshaken and sound of mind. Leaving his hands by his sides, away from his swords, he acknowledged her intent unassumingly. "My name is Tsuji Gettan, and I am a _Shugyosha_ in search of perfecting my swordsmanship."

Agitated even more, Kami's eyes squinted gritting her teeth, "So then you want a fight to prove your skill?" Stepping forward with her right foot, pointing her club at him, she accused him.

"Not the case." He reasoned, "I will not harm a lady if it is at all possible." He smiled briefly at her with his hands in the air.

Kami relented, lowering her club and taking a more natural stance, "My name is Kamikirimusi, and I am a great and powerful Oni. I demand you pay tribute to me."

The darkness had obscured his sight, somewhat, and Gettan had managed to delay sight of the horns hidden by her ruffled hair for a little while. Though the sight sent shivers down his back, _she had not attacked him_, meaning not all Oni were bad, as the children's stories led him to believe. Putting the _kanji_ of her name together, Gettan hoped to understand her better.

_Kami-_, the general term for a single deity, _-kiri-_, from the verb "to cut or slash", and finally _–musi_, to erode or eclipse: To eclipse the godly strike, Gettan reasoned.

"Well?" Kamikirimusi demanded, glaring at the swordsman before her lost in deep contemplation. As his eyes glanced back into hers, he tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. "I told you that I demand tribute or else I will gobble you up piece by piece!"

In a manner quite sincere, Gettan reached in between his kimono and _juban _and handed her a cloth-wrapped item. Snappily, Kamikirimusi took it, squeezing it in her hurry while turning around to open it.

"What is this, puny mortal? Rice! Rice can not sate my thirst for violence and bloodshed!" Continuing to put on airs, Kami squeezed the rice ball in her fist.

Looking around him, humoring her obvious lack of actual intimidation, Gettan picked up a tree branch and held it out to her. Their eyes met briefly, in the eye of the hurricane, Kami's brow tightened and she began glaring daggers at him. "Don't mock me." She warned.

"I've got nothing else." He replied solemnly, as was the truth, he had only the clothes on his back, the swords on his hip, a water jug at his side, and that one rice ball she had annihilated. Pursing his lips, "How about I teach you swordsmanship?" The one thing he could offer with much certainty.

There was, of course, a brief pause. Her anger turned to apathy and she looked up and down the samurai standing before her. "That would be tribute, indeed, if only I carried around a sword!" Her tone became electric and exasperated, "Need I remind you that I am, indeed, an Oni?"

Nodding in agreement, Gettan reasoned, "If I can't pay tribute in any manner or form, then 'gobble' me up. I can do nothing for such a pretty _Oni-hime_, such as you." Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he readied himself to be devoured.

_His first mistake_, she thought, _was to cross my path, his second was to call me an Oni princess…-wait, he isn't reviled by me?_ She looked at him, flabbergasted. "You're not afraid of me, you aren't insulting me, and then you call me pretty? How dare you?" Kamikirimusi reproached him, uncertain of how she should be feeling. After all, _he_ is human. He _is_ asamurai. And he is _penniless_.

Gettan bowed, looking to the West after the setting sun, darkness began to cloud their features even more. "_Sumimasen_, I must find a place to rest for the night." He begged her pardon and tried to move past her unobtrusively.

Before he could get past her, a sharp tug at the folds of his kimono began dragging him off perfectly along the path. "Unlike you, human, I can see in the dark. And since you had no tribute for me, I'm taking you as a pet." Still trying to put on airs, she added in for emphasis, "-And just like a pet, you can always turn into tonight's supper."


	2. Clash of Souls

_Soul Calibur: Intertwined Fates_

Chapter 2: "Clash of Souls"

The previous night had seemed a myth to the samurai, Tsuji Gettan. Unable to see in the growing dark of night, the demon-woman, Kamikirimusi, had almost magically spawned a fire, produced a _tatami_ mat large enough for both to share for the night, and caught and cooked snakes for a small meal. Wrapping her in his _haori_, Kami had fallen asleep with her arms around Gettan, lying on his back. He noticed her mumbling in her sleep right before he drifted off to slumber himself.

That had been the prior night. As morning drew him awake, Gettan had left her wrapped in his haori, straightening his kimono and tightening both his _kaku-obi_ and his hakama, he set his _daishō_ in between the respective weaves. The sun called to his warrior spirit; too much sleep led to fallibility, fallibility led to death in combat. Drinking water from chutes of bamboo to invigorate his parched throat, he warmed up, practicing _battō_, drawing the sword, and _notō_, sheathing the sword. It had always bugged him that Yamaguchi-sensei had made the battō completely conspicuous. The age of Warring States had ended with unrefined techniques being taught, leaving many current schools to elaborate on basics which would have made different schools of kenjutsu more effective and more efficient. Angles were often overlooked, Gettan thought to himself as he dropped the _kissaki_ of his sword towards an imaginary opponent, sheathing his sword in a rigid, but quick manner. Maintaining focus had come naturally after thirteen years of Yamaguchi-ryû, and keeping count on how many times he drew and sheathed his sword was no more a problem than counting very slowly.

Behind him, Kamikirimusi arose from the mat, stretching in a cat-like manner, her kimono sleeves wrapped around her slender arms as she twirled them around mid-stretch. "Ah!" She exclaimed, bones popping and cracking in every part of her slender frame. Noticing a slight breeze, she untied the bow-tied obi around her stomach, allowing her kimono to fall with gravity towards the ground; she rewrapped it around herself and began tying the obi back around her abdomen. She cocked her head to see the brazen swordsman practicing the finesse and intricacies of his style. "Gettan-_san_, how'd you sleep?" Politely asking in an archaic courtesan-manner, when he didn't stop or respond, she walked up behind him, grabbing the _tsukagashira_ of his katana, pulling it out of his grip with her Oni-prowess and turning him around, glaring at him once more with intensity. "I asked you a question."

"_Gomenasai_" He apologized, "I was focused on my swordsmanship practices." Bowing to her humbly, he looked up at her with astonished brown eyes as she tossed his sword into the air. The blade spun higher and higher, visible only by a gleam from the sun, as it plummeted to the earth, the Oni-woman before him caught the blade in a reversed-grip one-handed. She placed the sword back in the saya without it making a sound.

"Don't ignore me again." She commanded, reaching down the part in her kimono, just above her obi, retrieving a familiar crumpled cloth sack, reaching inside, she pulled out a fist-sized clump of rice, "Open." He heard.

Taken aback, but knowing her intent, he grimaced slightly before parting his lips and closing his eyes. She placed part of the smashed rice ball in his mouth; it was warm, albeit a little stale. He chomped down into it, but her hand didn't move, she pressed it closer, into his face. He struggled with chewing and swallowing while trying not to let the rice stick to his grizzled facial hair, opening his eyes, she stared intently at him, watching him eat, forcing him to finish it. As he choked and coughed after devouring the unsightly large amount of rice shoved down his throat all at once he looked up at her, "Why so much?"

"I can't have my new friend starving, now can I?" Kamikirimusi said rhetorically, grabbing her kanabō and hoisting it over her shoulder, looking at him with bright eyes and a smile. "So what's the plan, boss?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, Gettan furrowed his brow in thought of his explanation, "I was planning on heading towards the village of Kiyotaki, to ascend Mt. Atago and begin fasting to commence mastery of my art." He awaited her response, to which she only blinked. "That means that for however long it takes, I'll need isolation." He added in.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, raising one eyebrow inquiringly. Releasing, she commented, "So does that mean I can come with?"

Securing the _sageo_ of his saya underneath the _himo _of his hakama, he shuffled a bit, looking away while massaging the rough rugged beard he was growing. Without making eye-contact, "Only as far as Kiyotaki" he answered, "After that, if you so choose to await me, once I descend Mt. Atago, I will accompany you to whence you desire." He looked unsure about her reaction, having befriended an Oni, he was playing with fire.

"…Hmm." She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, "Await you, my only friend, at the foot of Mt. Atago? Or continue on with a destination for nowhere alone. I wonder what a human woman would say." Kamikirimusi sniggered, "Perhaps, 'I'll wait for you no matter how long it takes, but I die without you from this moment on!' And then be wooed by a suitor." Her imitation of a scorned woman's voice was perfect, shocking to Gettan.

Looking down at her hands around his chest, he grasped them intimately, turning his head as far as he could to look over his shoulder at her, as she had nuzzled her bright red hair against his shoulders. "You truly have no one else?" Gettan asked.

"No one" She repeated, "What is worse is that I am reviled by your kind." Kami replied, the warmth emanated by his body, and the closeness with which they were invariably linked made her absolutely enthralled by him.

As they traveled south, towards Mt. Atago, which overlooked the border between Kyoto and Yamashiro, the traversed through many small villages, disguising Kamikirimusi's horns and hair under a _takuhatsugasa_, a Buddhist monk's straw hat, her claws hidden beneath the immense sleeves of her black fiery kimono; Gettan dragged her immense kanabō behind him through the cities, never staying too long. Within a week, the two had reached the small village of Kiyotaki. In order to reach the small hamlet, the pair had to cross the Togetsukyō Bridge, overlooking the slow-moving waters of the Hozu and Katsura rivers. In the distance, the cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom.

Kamikirimusi looked up from beneath the straw hat and saw the cherry blossoms, and swooned with female grace and poise, "Aw."

Providing more information for her to feel romantic over, "This bridge is known as the Moon Crossing Bridge, famous for its view during a full moon, the water reflects the moon like a mirror." Gettan gently snapped the brim of the hat back over her eyes playfully, "I expect you to behave yourself while I am training."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Kamikirimusi inquired, "If I have any problems, I'll handle them myself, like I always have." Cracking her knuckles through the sleeves of her kimono, she giggled.

"I expect there to be a hamlet for me to descend to when I return." Gettan joked, forgetting for a moment that at one point in time she had helped, if not been directly responsible for the destruction of Kyoto six-hundred years ago. "I'll visit the inn here and see about getting a few supplies" Looking at the rather large iron club he was trailing behind him, "Go find a place to hide this in the meantime." Gettan said looking at her appreciatively.

As she took the kanabō back towards the woods, he asked around for the inn from several farmers, graciously thanking them for their help. As he entered the inn, there were several short tables scattered around the main room. A young waitress greeted him and showed him to a table occupied by a woman around his age.

"May I get you some saké?" She asked, to which Gettan nodded thoughtfully. As she departed, Gettan noticed the woman sitting across from him.

Wearing two wakizashi on either hip; two long katana sitting edge out on either side of her, the woman looked very fierce indeed. Long black hair poured from her head, covering one of her enigmatic dark eyes; her busty frame draped in a loose black kimono with a white dragon-theme. The woman also had a bizarre large Oni-skull over her left shoulder. She looked up from a warm cup of saké towards Gettan, her dark eyes piercing into his as the waitress set a bottle of saké in front of him with a cup.

"Are you a strong swordsman, samurai, or do you just pretend to look so?" She asked in an overt erotic manner. The lip of her cup pressing down and opening and pouring saké through caught his attention.

It was hard to admit it, but her strong sensuality caught him off-guard and took him away. It was hard to think of such an erotic being as anything other than a good night's sleep, _especially_ being that she was armed to the teeth. "Why do you carry so many swords?" Gettan inquired, finding it difficult to restrain his less-desirable animalistic urges sitting across from her.

"_Oh_, please don't evade my question." This woman practically moaned the question, acquiring the sight of all the clientele, mostly villagers or travelers. Gettan looked like a lucky fellow, sharing the company of such a _beautiful_ mistress. "Are you a strong _swordsman_?" She repeated.

"I am neither strong nor quick, but I am skilled nonetheless." Gettan replied naively. Neither a fool nor an idiot, though deterred by his masculine _qualities_, he was not dulled by them. "So then, having answered your question, how about you answer mine." He said rather bluntly.

Giving him a surly look, Gettan noticed something quite off about the woman sitting in front of him. Putting the cup up to her mouth again, she was less sensual, but more intense, more primal in her motions; her eyes pierced right through his as if trying to see his past and his future. "How about we have a little fun, just you and me?" She asked, leaning forward and allowing her cleavage to hang down against the table, her face hovered not to far away from his, and looking straight into her eyes, Gettan could see something rather inhuman. "Let's see if you're strong enough to _handle_ me."

Out of nowhere a blade flew towards his face, with quickened reflexes, Gettan narrowly escaped death, holding his katana upside-down in front of him, his right hand upside-down grasping the saya and pulling it up to reveal the blade, his left hand grabbed the _tsuka_ and drew the blade down. Pushing both hands against hers, he quickly rose to give her a snap-kick to her enormous chest, allowing him enough time to switch hands and turn the cutting edge of his sword away from him.

"I have no intention of bringing harm to a woman." Gettan shouted, the patrons of the tavern watching in bewilderment from various new positions derived from the shock of a fight starting. Gettan pointed his blade towards her, "Drop your weapons." He said to the staggering woman as she reached her feet, having drawn both long swords.

"_Ooh_, so you _are_ strong!" She exclaimed with an aroused smile on her twisted face, "Give me all you've got!" She was taking sadistic pleasure from this, Gettan thought. She swung both swords around fancifully unaware, or perhaps, without care for the people around her.

As much as Gettan despised the notion, he would have to make this crazed woman the test for his training and his skills. "You give me no choice." He responded bluntly, tightening his grip on his sword. He watched as she raised one sword above her head, in a style similar in manner to that of Miyamoto Musashi's _Niten Ichi-ryû_. _Am I dealing with a misaligned disciple of the fabled Musashi School?_ Gettan asked himself.

As she advanced, Gettan retreated hesitantly, even having studied the tactics being used against him; this woman had something else on her side. She exposed the entire front of her body to him, stepping onto a horizontal axis; she let both swords fall into a scissor shape below her waist. "Spirits, I summon thee." She recited in a not-so sexual tone; she pointed the tip of one of her katana kissaki at Gettan.

Stepping back into a more defensive stance, he watched as a swirling wisp of smoke rose around her blade, suddenly the smoke shot up and out towards Gettan. In a vain attempt to cut the _projectile_, if it could be called such, Gettan's blade transported through the emanation as it plummeted right into his chest, knocking him over a table and against a wall. As he flew through the air his sword clattered to the ground, ricocheting off of a scrambling patron.

The woman stepped forward meticulously, lowering her swords back into a scissor-pattern, she looked over the slumped body before him, a twisted grin climbing up her cheek like an errant vine, she began to raise her swords up to deliver the killing blow. "Pity, I had hoped you'd have a little more in you than that." She recited with the same sexual tone.

"Not so fast, _whore_!" A voice sprang out of nowhere; the woman quickly turned her attention to the sound, which began accounting for the eight-foot spiked pillar slicing the air towards her. The female-assassin barely managed to jump out of the way, the side of her robe catching on a spike-end, tearing the kimono from her body.

Standing before Kamikirimusi, the topless assassin glared at the Oni, a small cut forming below her breasts. "You vile monster!" She snarled jumping towards Kami with both blade slice towards her, she, and her twin blades, connected with the haft of her iron club, brushing her to the side. Lifting her kanabō one-handed, Kamikirimusi brought it crashing down upon the woman, now lying on her back. Barely catching the club, the woman's two swords shattered along the _hamon_, the cutting edge. The woman hopped up, and with shattered dual blades in hand, quickly fired a misty projectile at Kami.

Seeing the projectile for what it was, Kamikirimusi paid no mind to the assaulting malevolence and simply forced her demonic entity towards it, incinerating it. Looking up to see that the bare-chested assassin had fled, Kami immediately dropped her club and fled to Gettan's aid.


End file.
